Jim's Birthday
by Marlow the Even Greater
Summary: Spock is out of his mind trying to find a gift for Jim. He doesn't understand the human tradition anyway, but he'll get Jim the perfect gift if it kills him. Spirky fluff!
1. Chapter 1

"Well, your vitals seem to be functioning properly, as usual, Spock," said Bones, nodding to Nurse Chapel to record the data of the check-up.

"As I had anticipated, Doctor," said Spock, straightening his sleeves and making his way to the door.

"Not so fast. I have something I want to ask you."

Spock pivoted to face the doctor. His asking for advice was both unexpected and seemingly groundless, as his voice had shifted from a professional tone to an attempt at friendliness.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Jim's birthday is next week- surely you know that."

"I was not aware."

McCoy's eyebrows furrowed, a wave of confusion washing over his face.

"I find that hard to believe, Mr. Spock."

"And why is that?"

"Well, it's no secret that you're closest to Jim."

"Yes," said Spock, a familiar hesitancy in his voice, "the captain and I have a close friendship."

Bones raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"Anyway, his birthday is next week. I was wondering if you… had any ideas for what to get him."

"Are you asking for my advice, Doctor?"

The doctor's habitual expression of annoyance reappeared as a slight sigh escaped his mouth.

"You very well know I am, Spock, no need to rub it in."

"Earth customs commonly involve small celebrations and gifts on the anniversary of one's birth, correct?"

"You mean you don't celebrate birthdays on Vulcan?" Said Bones, unsurprised but upset by this. There was something about everything Spock did that was just a bit irritating, this unexcluded, but there was also some kind of endearment to his ways- something that Bones would never fully understand, much less admit.

"Negative, Doctor. I believe that I have established that Vulcans do not celebrate in the same manner as humans; we prefer much more logical methods-,"

Bones opened his mouth to interrupt but was instantly quieted by Spock's continuation.

"-but seeing as how Jim is human, I agree that we must indulge his human expectations. What do you suggest?"

"Well, I don't know what _you're _doing, but I'll probably get him a book on the federation's history- I swear, if I have to listen to another word of his 'federation trivia,' I'll-,"

Spock's thoughts fleeted from the doctor's ramblings; he had researched Earth's customs regarding birthdays, but hadn't considered its effects on his relationship with Jim. He had only known him for a year, but felt an obligation to him- not a restraining one, but an accepted one, of sorts. Something he desired to be obligated to do. He wanted to make him happy, even if he himself could not be, even if he didn't understand why it pleased his captain. He wanted Jim to be happy.

"Doctor," Spock said abruptly, unaware that he had just interrupted McCoy's complaining, "I request your assistance in this matter. What is an appropriate gift for one's captain?"

Bones simply shrugged with a prolonged blink.

"That's the hardest part about birthdays," he said, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Spock's concern was truly amusing, but he'd never let the Vulcan know that.

Spock looked down, nodding to himself a bit.

"Thank you, doctor," he said, and with that, walked briskly out of the sick bay.


	2. Chapter 2

"...but I don't know exactly what I could get him. I've thought of a million things throughout the year but I can't think of a single thing right now. That's- Mr. Spock! I suppose you know what you're going to get the captain."

Spock pivoted to where he had heard the last part of a conversation between Uhura and Scotty, facing the Lieutenant with a raised eyebrow.

"Why would you suppose that?"

"You do have a closer relationship with him than the rest of us," said Uhura, cocking her head to the side, "you have a bigger ticket to fill."

"I do not understand," said Spock, raising an eyebrow, "why I should have a bigger responsibility than anyone else."

Uhura shrugged with mock innocuous and swiveled her chair back to her work. Spock lingered for a moment, conflicted, then turned away to his chair. Evidently amused, Scotty and Uhura gave each other a glance; Spock wasn't concealing his concern as well as he seemed to think he was. The door to the bridge slid open with a hiss as the captain entered, making the first officer nearly jump in surprise.

"Captain," he said, much too quickly, "where have you been?"

"I was just resting, Mr. Spock," Jim said, his eyebrows knitting together in skepticism. The performance was much too rushed and concerned- even Spock could see that. The first officer nodded his head, unconvincingly trying to regain his casual demeanor.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you weren't expecting me to arrive just then," said the captain, a familiar smile slithering onto his face. "Perhaps because of...my approaching birthday?"

"The celebration of birthdays is an illogical occasion," Spock said, as if reciting a line that he had been programmed to say.

"Quite right, Mr. Spock," Jim said, his smile idling in its position. Spock drummed his fingers along the surface of his work place, unable to think of anything but the gift, much less his work. Perhaps he needed some acting lessons, or perhaps it was their mental bond, but the captain had picked up on his facade. The dilemma was the appropriateness of the gift; he did not want to give his captain an inappropriate gift, be it too much or too little, and he quite decidedly would not be able to control his embarrassment if either occasion were to arrive. That was the problem with Jim- he had a way of thawing the first officer's numbness. Nearly all of Spock's emotional outbursts happened because of and around Jim, and while it was dreadfully inconvenient, there was something else about it. Something real. As if this was where he was meant to be, with whom he was meant to be- as if everything else didn't matter, as if he was the only thing that was really true. Which was illogical, and it was illogical, and it was illogical, and Spock had to remember that, and he couldn't forget that, and he had to be what he was born to be. But how could he have gotten so distracted? It was the gift he needed to remember: just a silly Earth custom, just a silly gift. These distractions were too much; they frequently wormed into his central thoughts, distracting him from his original ideas, from his work, and mostly, from his sleep. They needed to be controlled, as all Vulcans had managed to do but Spock- the exception: that's what he was, that's what he always had been.

He got up and briskly walked out the doors, not entirely knowing where he was heading. He had to find it; he had to find the one thing that could solidify his regard for Jim- he didn't understand the idea of birthdays, nor why this gift was eating away at his mind, but he understood that it would make Jim happy.

"Spock?"

Spock's head snapped up abruptly as he noticed quite suddenly that he had not been alone for rather some time now.  
"Hmm?" He murmured, momentarily distracted, then, clearing his throat, "Yes, helmsman?"

Sulu- who had been observing him in the turbolift for several minutes now- raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"You were talking to yourself, Officer," he said, his laughter lines reforming. Spock paused, unsure of how to professionally handle this- why was it that whenever he was thinking about Jim he was distracted from everything else?

"I…find that…," Spock stuttered futilely, refolding his arms behind his back in their regular military-like position. Sulu slowly moved his thumb across his mouth as if wiping something off of it, pretending to be waiting for the officer's full response. The door slid open behind him with a slight hiss and Spock nearly pushed over a yeoman in his vigorous attempts to flee the embarrassment of the turbolift.


	3. Chapter 3

"Back already, Spock?" Bones' satisfaction was evident enough, but it wasn't clear whether it was because he liked having Spock around or he knew exactly what the Vulcan was going to ask him.

"Affirmative, Doctor. I am unsure of a proper gift for the captain. You have previous experience in this human ritual, therefore making you a preferable candidate to ask for advice."

"Now," Bones said, his smile widening by the second, "Don't tell me you're coming to _me _for advice, Mr. Spock."

"Affirmative," said Spock, restraining from saying it condescendingly, but raising an eyebrow nevertheless.

"I already told you-," began Bones, throwing his hands up a little.

"Doctor. Please."

The doctor's eyes shot up to meet Spock's. His voice had indicated how important it was to him.

"Well, let's see. Traditionally, in your position, you'd get him some kind of special trinket- a watch, a scrapbook-,"

"What do you mean by 'my position,' Doctor?"

Bones opened his mouth, then closed it, giving Spock a skeptical glance. Spock returned it with an arched eyebrow. Bones raised both of his eyebrows, still projecting more skepticism than the man had ever expressed. Spock again raised his other eyebrow, tilting his head a bit in somewhat unconvincing confusion. At last, Bones gave a little sigh and, after rubbing his face in exasperation, looked back up at Spock.

"Just get him something that tells him what he means to you."

"I…"

"You'll figure it out. Just show him that you care."

"I am-,"

"Unemotional, I know."

"No," Spock said, much softer than before, "grateful."

"Oh," Bones said, jerking his head up, a genuine smile pulling back his glowing cheeks, "well, you're welcome, then, you green-blooded hobgoblin."

Spock stood motionless for less than a second, then gave a small nod and walked out the door.

"Mr. Spock!" Jim grabbed the Vulcan's arm just as he left the sick bay's entrance, his signature little smile appearing on his face, as it always seemed to do when he noticed Spock's presence.

"Is there something you need, Captain?" Asked Spock, out of both habit and authenticity- when Jim was pleased, something in turn affected Spock. Not happiness; no- but something.

"I just wanted to let you know," Jim said, having to look up to meet his first officer's eyes, "that you don't have to get me anything for my birthday. It's okay if you don't."

"I will . . . consider that proposition, Captain," said Spock, fully intending not to consider the proposition. Kirk's hand lingered on Spock's arm as his smile enhanced.

"Very well, Spock," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice, "Come with me."

"Is it wise to have both head commanding officers off of the bridge at one time, Captain?"

"I think they can handle it," Jim said, leading Spock to the higher quarters deck.

"Where do you intend on taking me?"

"Relax, Mr. Spock, I just want to talk to you," Jim said, turning into his quarters, Spock trailing behind him. Jim sat on his bed, motioning for Spock to do the same.

"Yes, Captain?"

"I just...I want to know you."

"You know me very well, Captain."

"No. Yes. I know, but… I need…I need. . .,"

"What do you need, Captain?"

"I need your time," Jim said, his eyes looking anywhere but at Spock, "I need your attention. And I don't mean that to sound like an instruction. I mean you, Spock, as a person- I need your attention, not professionally, but…," he looked up to see Spock's confused gaze. "Never mind, I suppose."

"I understand, Captain."

Jim shook his head a little, but with a look of admiration nonetheless.

"I mean...I have a tendency to burn down my bridges prematurely," Jim said, not quite understanding himself, "But I don't think I made a mistake this time. Do you?"

"Captain, I-,"

"Yes, yes, I know- it doesn't make sense. I- Hmm. You're… you're dismissed, Spock."

"Permission to remain, Captain?"

Kirk's eyes flicked back up to Spock's, a smear of surprise running across his face.  
"Granted."

"Captain," said Spock, some bit of uncertainty in his tone, "This custom of a birth-day has made me realize something."

"Yes?" Kirk said, his eyes gleaming with ceaseless vim.

"We have very few places aboard the ship to obtain material possessions."

"Oh… oh, yes, I suppose… I suppose that is a valid observation, Mr. Spock," Jim said, hopelessly trying to retrieve his previous excitement. Spock was bent on controlling himself, though his emotions were straining against their chains- he had to be able to control himself around Jim. He had to.

"Permission to leave the vicinities, Captain? I believe it is imperative that I return to my duty on the bridge."

"Of course, Spock," said Jim, unable to keep his face from falling at this. He could not refute the fact that Spock had accepted Vulcan culture anymore- he couldn't keep expecting Spock to reveal everything he thought. But at the same time, he was so easy to talk to, and there was something between them. Something connected, some kind of predetermined purpose that they had, but he didn't understand it. Yet. He had always burned his bridges much too early, expecting that things would all work out in the end, sometimes suffering because of his confidence, but this was different. This felt _right, _and maybe that was a rash, wrong decision, and maybe he was trying to accomplish something that would never work, but it was right, it was so right, and it overwhelmed him. He never _had_ believed in a no-win scenario.


	4. Chapter 4

"Spock, I heard you needed some advice for what to get the Captain."

"I . . . suppose that you are correct in that assumption," Spock said to the lieutenant, somewhat reluctantly. Uhura's face lit up a little- finally Spock had quelled his stubbornness to a point of accepting help. This must have been very important to him.

"What you need to do is to get him something you can both do together," Uhura said, clearly predetermined, "Like a trip, or a personalized chess board."

"Vulcans do not vacation the way that humans do. They prefer a more logical form of rest; there is a way-,"

"Chess, then."

"I do not know where I would acquire a personalized chess board."

"It sounds like you're just making excuses, Spock."

"I…," Spock began, his voice suddenly hushed, "I simply desire for it to be optimal. But your suggestions are not unhelpful."

"Thank you."  
Spock nodded and turned back to his work- the work he should have finished hours ago. There was something quixotic about situation, though; while he wanted to please Jim and would hardly be able to function if he didn't, he also took pleasure from the search- it was a mystery, a puzzle with a missing piece. The rational thing to do was to reason it out logically: Jim had many interests, consisting primarily of reading, historical knowledge, chess, and, quite recently, Vulcan culture. His captain had occasionally slipped in Vulcan words and phrasing that only Spock and Uhura could understand- surely he realized what he was doing, but the reasons for it were unclear. Of course, giving Jim something that would appeal to his main interests felt wrong- there was no basis for this judgement, but it just felt unpersonalized, unattached. Which, ironically, was quite what Spock should have been feeling toward Jim, but if he would accept nothing else, he would accept this- he would accept that Jim was something different than the others.  
Spock got up from his work for the third time that day, with a new kind of conviction. He would figure this out if it killed him.

* * *

"What the devil are you doing now, Spock?" Bones' eyes widened in shock and concern at the site of a just-as-surprised Spock in his quarters. He had come in only to ask for some scientific information from a past visit to a starbase, but the greeting that Spock had provided him was much more than he had expected.

The first officer was sitting in the middle of his quarters- on the _floor_, no less- his hair hopelessly tousled and messy. Papers with illegible scribbles on them coated the floor, contrasting Spock's usually organized fashion, and broken writing utensils were everywhere.

"What are you doing with paper, Spock? You can use a computer if it means that much to you," Bones said with a grimace at the mess.

"I preferred for my work to be untraceable, Doctor," said Spock, smoothing his hair down with his hand.

"Why? Is this something for work?"

"No, Doctor, this is something...personal. I do not mean to insult you, but your presence is delaying my progress."

"Is this about Jim's birthday?"

Spock stalled, pretending to take a sudden interest in an empty corner of his room.  
"Come on, Spock."

"Affirmative."

"What is all this? Are you making some algorithm to find out what Jim will like?"

"I cannot very well finish it when being disturbed."

"Alright," McCoy said, picking the papers up and moving them to the bin, "I know that you're only doing what you know, but this really isn't a normal way to decide on a gift for someone."

"Desist," Spock said imperatively to an ignoring Doctor McCoy, "Doctor, the Captain is not a normal man. Not to me."

"Yes, he's quite a captain," Bones said skeptically.

"I mean-,"

"Spock, I know what you mean. Everyone knows what you mean, in case you haven't noticed, except for you, apparently."

"I do not understand."

A smirk returned to the doctor's face.

"Here's something Jim would love for his birthday. He would love for you to tell him how you feel."

"In… In my culture-,"

"Jim's a human, Spock."

"Doctor, I insist that you cease interrupting me."

There was a silence between them for a moment.

"I know you love him, Spock," said Bones, breaking the silence, only to be immediately immersed in it afterwards. Spock stared off into space, his thoughts reeling. He did not love Jim. He did not love Jim. He did not.

"Affirmative," he said, almost inaudibly.


	5. Chapter 5

Spock tried to control his nervousness with very little success; his decision could very well have been terribly flawed. Nevertheless, he had to allow himself to admit that the situation was very pleasant. Everyone had gathered in the captain's quarters, as Kirk wanted to open all his gifts at once so that everyone could see. Neither the captain nor his first officer had gotten much work done earlier that afternoon; Kirk's excitement, of course, was unbearable, while Spock had been anticipating it with a wide range of nuances.

Kirk's well-practiced hand quickly opened the gift from Scotty- some kind of alcohol; a surprise to no one. Uhura had gotten him a Starfleet captain's rulebook as a joke- to an extent anyway- and Chekov had, to no one's surprise but everyone's confusion, gotten him some kind of Russian trinket. After thorough minutes of observation, Kirk had finally given up on discovering its purpose and simply thanked a beaming Chekov for the thought.

"You're green as a pea, Mr. Spock," Bones whispered to Spock with a simper. Of course, the first officer was more than aware of this, and Bones' pointing it out only made his hue deepen.

"A book on the federation!" Kirk exclaimed, giving Bones a genuine smile. Jim was a smart man, smarter than some gave him credit for.

"Thank you, Bones, and thank you, everyone," Jim said, nodding to each of them individually. McCoy gave Spock a look of concern- he had not yet given the captain his gift. Spock simply waved the doctor away. Bones joined the rest of the crewman as they left the room. Only Spock remained; he was the only exception.

Kirk looked up at Spock, first in confusion, then in some emotion that Spock did not recognize.

"So I suppose you got a gift for me after all?"

"Affirmative."

"And you didn't want the others to see it?"

"I...No, Captain."

"Alright, let's see it."

Spock revealed with a shaky hand a bouquet of flowers that he had been holding behind his back, disguising them with his usual stance of holding his hands behind his back. Kirk's eyes gleamed with zestful avidity. It was not very often that he had the chance to see, touch, care for a real flower- frequently the directives had been to explore deserted planets without this kind of life and beauty.

"I had noticed that you have shown recurrent interests in flowering plants-,"

"They're perfect, Spock. They're perfect."

A tsunami of emotion immersed the first officer. He could not control it; it was too much. Pleasure, joy, happiness. It always happened when Jim was around, and now he knew why.

His eyes were now open, for the first time. He saw Jim in a new way, a brighter way. He didn't know everything about his culture or how to fully commit to it, but he knew Jim- if he knew anything, he knew Jim. It was like seeing a new color. He would not disregard all of his heritage, but Jim was more than that, and if he had to be shunned for his emotion, or not accepted in his homeland, this would be the only reason he would accept it.

"I'm glad you favor the plants, Captain."

Jim's head shot up from the flowers and he grabbed Spock's hand without warning, intertwining his fingers with Spock's.

"Spock, tell me that they're more than just plants. Tell me, Spock."

Spock hesitated. Technically, they were nothing more than plants. That was the only thing that they would be defined as. But that isn't what Jim meant, and he knew it.

"They're more than just plants, Jim."

Jim's smile widened, revealing his teeth. After everything, this only seemed fair; he had waited, and Spock had known- he'd _let _him wait, hadn't he? But the captain was well-known for his persistence. He always had been. After all, he never _did _believe in a no-win scenario.


End file.
